


Absitively posolutely!

by Jadeaffection



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animal Transformation, Companionable Snark, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Kittens, M/M, Mild Language, Mute Castiel, One Shot, Pre-Slash, Romantic Comedy, Slow Build, Squirrels, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadeaffection/pseuds/Jadeaffection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mute angel and a kitten show up at the door... it's not the beginning of a joke, just the continuation of one. The one the universe is playing on the Winchesters</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absitively posolutely!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lost and Found](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/16267) by NaSyu. 



> **Title:** Absitively posolutely!
> 
> **Characters/Pairing:** Sam/Gabriel (pre-slash), Dean/Castiel (pre-slash) and Bobby.
> 
> **Warnings:** Kitten!Gabriel, Mild coarse language and cavity inducing schmaltz. I may also break the fourth wall a little... whoops, my bad!
> 
> **Spoilers:** Up to 7.02... but only the start. Set three/four months later. Bobby's didn't go boom.
> 
>  
> 
> **A/N:** This story owes its entire existince to this beautiful work of art (http://nasyu.deviantart.com/art/Lost-and-Found-279731342) by ~NaSyu and the filthy enableing of ~mangachick203 on DeviantART... I'm sorry it took me a year to finish. The title is a quote from the movie "Oliver  & Company"... for obvious reasons.

‘But it’s a kitten!’

It was the fourth time Dean had uttered that exact sentence. Either he was trying for some new record in the “State the Obvious” Olympics or his brain had finally broken and that was the thought it was stuck on.

Considering Castiel had just shown up on Bobby’s doorstep, _alive_ and trench coat-less, fifteen minutes ago, mental breakdown was a safe bet.

The fact that he had arrived inexplicably mute, covered in snow and carrying a tiny kitten probably hadn’t helped. 

There had been spontaneous hugging, that awkward “I’ve been hugging you too long so I’m going to step away now, clear my throat and avoid eye contact in a manly fashion” moment, Bobby had called everyone idjits while throwing around some holy water and salt, Castiel might have been poked with something silver and Sam, unable to look at that much emotion on his brothers face, strategically retreated to retrieve Castiel’s trench coat from Dean’s duffel bag. 

When Sam returned, he found Dean trying to get Castiel to talk, which caused Castiel to look remorseful and on the verge of tears, which, in turn, caused Dean to panic and start up the most demented game of charades Sam had ever seen. 

Bobby just rolled his eyes and wandered off to find some paper and a writing implement.

Sam didn’t have the heart to remind Dean that the _angel_ was the one who couldn’t talk. 

Instead, he just stepped between his brother and Castiel, preventing Dean from confusing the angel further with his complicated hand gestures that looked a bit like a dying mongoose but more than likely meant “You explody-melted in a lake and now you’re back… What’s up with that?”.

Castiel took the reprieve as a chance to place the kitten, forgotten in the flurry of reunion, reverently on the trundle bed. He did it so gently and with such respect that all of Sam’s attention was drawn to the tiny animal.

He was so caught up in the kitten’s golden eyes that he barely noticed Castiel removing the trench coat from his hands and putting it on, snow flying everywhere, or Bobby returning.

It took Dean pushing in between himself and Castiel for Sam to realize what was going on. Four grown men were staring at a kitten. An admittedly adorable kitten but a kitten nonetheless.

It was then that it started getting a little odd, even by Winchester standards.

Bobby held the paper and pencil at Castiel, who took them with a thankful nod. Dean and Sam then began talking over each other, Dean desperate to know how the angel had returned while Sam was curious about the mysterious kitten.

Before either had even finished a question however, Castiel flinched in pain and in front of everyone’s eyes the A4 piece of paper and the chewed 2B in the angel’s hands disintegrated into fine powdery ash.

Sam had never seen Castiel look that frustrated at anything that wasn’t Dean.

He imagined that the angel, were he able to speak, would have declared the situation to be most inconvenient.

The process repeated several times, Bobby returning with increasingly dilapidated stationary, with the same results. Finally, admitting defeat, Bobby brought back a book, hoping in vain that somewhere in there would be the answers to mute angels who turned pens to dust. It was unlikely but Sam admired his incentive.

Denied other avenues of self-expression, Castiel resorted to Dean’s plan. Which Dean looked far too smug about for Sam’s liking.

Castiel gripped Dean’s upper arms, eyes imploring. Sam wasn’t even surprised that his brother knew what was being asked of him.

‘How are you alive Cas?’ 

Sam graciously ignored the way Dean’s voice cracked.

Castiel didn’t, his face softening as a gentle almost smile slipped across his features. His thumbs made small circles on Dean’s shoulders. Which Sam didn’t notice at all. Really.

It was then that the angel looked up. Which was obviously referencing God. Which Sam assumed anyway. Which was why he was more interested in the ginger fluffball on the bed.

He was about to ask when, as a continuation of his answer to Dean, Castiel turned his attention to the kitten. Had the kitten helped to bring him back?

‘Wait… So God _and_ that piece of lint brought you back to life?’ 

Sam tried really hard not to be surprised that Dean had kept up.

Castiel nodded and Dean took a step away from the bed, eyeing the kitten with suspicion. Bobby, a few steps ahead of the Winchesters as usual, moved closer to the increasingly intriguing cat.

‘Is the kitten God?’

Bobby’s completely reasonable question, at least it was as far as Sam was concerned considering that Kitten!God would be the perfect cherry on top of the weird sundae that was his life, provoked an unsuspected reaction.

Castiel laughed.

Short, loud and surprised.

Even Sam, as an unbiased observer, had to admit that it was sparkling and magnetic. So it was absolutely expected when Dean lit up like a Christmas tree at the sound. His brother’s answering smile was blinding and when Castiel met it with one of his own, Sam steeled himself for another session of awkward staring. Though, to be honest, he had somewhat missed watching them moon at each other.

Deciding to be proactive while waiting for one of them to blink, Sam went to his bag and pulled out the small pouch labeled “Jess”. Guilt was guaranteed to prevent Dean from snooping. The “Hair Product” bag hadn’t been quite as successful a hiding place as Sam had hoped. Looking for gel, Sam’s ass.

From the pouch, he removed Dean’s amulet. Well, Dean had disowned it and thrown it in the bin but Sam had given it to him and retrieved it from said bin and damnit, it was Dean’s amulet. 

Even if Sam had to hide it from him.

Walking cautiously back to the bed, he held the amulet out, dangling it in front of the kitten. The small animal blinked at him before reaching out a tiny paw and batting at the necklace as if to say “look, not burning hot”. 

And if Sam didn’t know better he would almost say that the kitten was giving him an “you’re an idiot but I’ll humor you” eye roll. It was a very familiar look that Sam couldn’t quite place.

Dropping the necklace for the cat to play with, he turned back to Castiel, his mind trying desperately to connect the pieces.

‘Cas… The kitten’s someone important, isn’t it? Who is it?’

Miracle of miracles, Castiel turned away from Dean and the eyes he directed at Sam were almost as soft as those he had bestowed upon Dean earlier. And he smiled at Sam, an honest to goodness smile that wasn’t aimed at Dean.

Then he looked constipated. Which Sam decided was his serious thinking face. At least he hoped it was.

Castiel scoured the room, looking for anything that would help him express what he wanted to say. His eyes lit up in a “ah-ha” moment before he snatched Dean’s Baby Ruth® bar and recent copy of Busty Asian Beauties off the table and strode purposely across the room to place them on top of the television. He then turned back to the three hunters as though expecting applause.

All he got was three blank looks.

Bobby and Sam must have let their intelligence hinder them, making the clues seem more complicated than they really were and over thinking the whole thing.

Dean, not thusly handicapped, was the first to work out what the angel was trying to tell them.

‘Are you saying that Oliver over there is _actually_ Gabriel?’

Sam choked on his spit as, after a moment of confusion at the Disney reference, Castiel nodded. Dean responded just as elegantly as Sam did.

‘I call bullshit!”

Sam was about to agree with Dean when Bobby spoke up.

‘You boys might want to take a look at this.’

Turning towards the bed they all re-enacted the scene from earlier with four grown men staring at a kitten. Only this time the kitten had sprouted a tiny pair of golden wings and had a delicate glowing halo floating just above its head.

And now that he knew, Sam could see Gabriel staring back at him from the little ball of fluff. And Gabriel was saying “Pity me! For I am small and furry!”, which was a little pathetic and maybe a lot adorable.

‘Gabriel?’

Sam extended a hand and was met by a paw pressing against his finger. It was a bit like that moment from ET or that picture of Jane Goodall pressing her hand against the baby chimp’s. Moving, surreal and slightly sacred.

At least until pure mischief flashed through Gabriel’s eyes and a tiny claw jammed itself into the soft pad of Sam’s digit. Pulling his hand back and instinctively putting his finger in his mouth, Sam watched as the kitten’s face took on an almost evil grin and a paw was brought up so it could be delicately cleaned of the drop of Sam’s blood with a tiny pink tongue.

It was probably his imagination but Sam could have sworn the halo looked a bit tarnished.

‘Yep, definitely Gabriel’, he mumbled around his finger.

‘But it’s a _kitten_!’

 

***

 

So that was how they ended up with a mute angel and an archangel turned trickster-god turned kitten.

With no way of knowing how or why or if there was anything they could do to fix either problem. Moreover, they still had the leviathans to deal with, even though every thing had been disturbingly quiet on that front for quite a while.

All things considered though, it wasn’t the weirdest way their life could have gone. And far from the most malevolent.

Although, if they had been using Dean’s baby and it was the Impala’s backseat Gabriel had requisitioned as a scratching post, Sam doubts his brother would agree.

As it was, Dean was barely holding it together over the ginger fur that seemed to coat all his dark clothes (Sam may have caught Gabriel curled up in Dean’s duffel but he claims justifiable cause as to why he left the kitten sleeping. Cuteness is totally an appropriate defense.) and the four am wakeup calls of Gabriel yowling or walking all over Dean’s face demanding to be let out.

Even Sam had to admit the half-dead squirrels found on the doorstep (which he may have nursed back to health amidst Dean calling him Florence Nightingale and Castiel giving him sappy approving looks.) and the cat poop in his boots (which took them an hour to deal with as Gabriel wouldn’t let Sam or Castiel _anywhere_ near the footwear and anytime Dean got close he started gagging. Monster guts? Yes. Kitten feces? No.) were a bit too much.

And nobody was enjoying the worming and flea treatments.

But, to be completely honest, Sam did like the feeling of falling asleep with a warm albeit small body curled against his own. Tucked against the dip of his hip, splayed across his feet or snuggled in the curve of his arm. It was also nice to have someone to roll eyes with when Dean and Castiel continued to dance around their epic romance.

Dean wasn’t as immune to Gabriel’s charms as he would have liked everyone to believe either. It wasn’t only once that Sam had walked in to find his brother coaxing the former archangel with his shoelace and cooing at him as they played.

The two Winchesters had also walked in numerous times to find Castiel kneeling on the floor and staring deep into Gabriel’s eyes as the kitten sat on a bed. Sam realized it must be some kind of angelic communication/bonding thing but that didn’t stop him from muttering “Jealous?” at his brother’s concerned frowning towards the pair. He took the elbow to the stomach as his due.

They hunted, with Castiel being, surprisingly, good at hand-to-hand fighting and, not so surprisingly, amazing at research. He also fit effortlessly into their non-existent hunting style. Which was really just protect each other and try not to die.

Gabriel was always a bit miffed at being left behind, sulking for hours if locked in the motel room, hopping all over the dash, hissing and spitting while trying to get at the evil things, if left in the car.

But amazingly enough they had formed a semi functional little unit and it was almost normal to pick up cat food at the shop and an extra burger at the diner. Not that they wouldn’t have preferred a more verbose Castiel or a less fluffy Gabriel but they had learnt long ago to take what you could get.

So of course, six months later, when everything had settled into a comfortable routine, it all ended.

 

***

 

Sam was dreaming. 

He knew this because last time he checked the sky wasn’t normally lime green. And trees didn’t have faces. That winked.

Also woodland creatures didn’t perform costumed renditions of Broadway classics.

If he never heard “Defying Gravity” again it would be too soon.

So he was dreaming. Which didn’t really lessen the discomfit of being crushed from the waist down by a boulder. Well, he guessed it kinda did since it was just an uncomfortable pressure across his legs instead of excruciating pain. If you didn’t include having to endure “Memory” for the third time. Which Sam did.

And Dean was never finding out that his subconscious was a musicals fan. _Ever_.

Just as a squirrel was about to break into the bridge of “Cell Block Tango”, Sam decided that he had had enough. 

It’s not that the squirrel didn’t look adorable in its little flapper dress because it did. Sam just didn’t want to be stuck humming show tunes all day tomorrow.

God forbid Dean might recognize one of them.

So he forced himself awake. And away from the rabbit who was explaining just why he had it coming.

But apparently not away from the pressure on his legs. Which was odd.

Sam cracked his eyes open, only to find a dude sprawled across the lower half of his body. It was a far cry from the small cat asleep on his feet that he had dozed of with.

Now, logically, Sam knew that the man was Gabriel. That somehow, during the night, the archangel must have been transformed back into his human vessel. That there was nothing to panic about.

But a newly awoken Sam was not a logical Sam. Nor was he a coordinated Sam.

With a girly shriek, that he’s not even going to try to deny because, really, what’s the point, they all heard it, he flailed all of his, admittedly large, limbs at once and fought his way into a sitting position. With his hands, embarrassingly enough, in ninja attack mode.

And it was thanks to one of his newborn foal leg kicks that man on the bed suddenly became man on the floor.

‘For the love of pudding Sasquatch, I was sleeping! Control your spasms would you?’

Gabriel’s eyes, when he poked his head up from the end of the bed, looked less than impressed.

Thankfully by this time Sam’s brain had started firing on all cylinders again. At least enough for him to be able to pretend he was a fully functioning human.

‘Gabe,’ he said, voice taking on the tone of someone who has very exciting news to break to someone but still wants it to be a surprise. ‘Take a look at yourself.’

The archangel’s eyes narrowed in apprehensive curiosity before he lifted his hand to waggle his fingers in front of his face.

And the smile that took over his face was incredible. It filled Sam with such overwhelming joy (a reaction he skipped over to analyze later) to see Gabriel that happy. The kind of joy you can’t help but want to share, so Sam looked across the room to his brother.

It was then he realized that Gabriel wasn’t the only one whose sleep had been disturbed by his flailing and screaming.

Dean and Castiel were sitting up in their shared double bed, twin looks of half asleep, a quarter annoyed and a quarter happy at this new development but too tired for this shit, written across their faces.

Castiel’s hair was sticking up in impossible directions and Dean had pillow creases imprinted down the left side of his face. He also had the knife from under his pillow in his hand.

Castiel huffed a sigh before offering a genuine smile, first to Sam and then to Gabriel. Then he flopped backwards, turned onto his side and seemed to promptly fall back to sleep.

‘I agree with Cas,’ said Dean, looking down at the angel beside him. 

And how they managed to communicate so much without words, Sam still didn’t know. 

‘It’s far too early to deal with this. Mazeltov on the opposable thumbs dude!’

Dean managed to smirk at Gabriel with his eyes half closed.

‘Celebratory drinks on me tomorrow! And Samantha, I always knew you were a woman. Guess who’s getting nail polish for her next birthday? If you happen to see a spider between now and seven am, try and keep your squeals at a reasonable decibel huh?’

Completely ignoring the impressive glare Sam was sending his way, Dean laid back down and almost immediately began to lightly snore. Before rolling over, throwing his arm around Castiel’s waist and pulling the angel into his body.

Dean apparently liked to be the big spoon.

It wasn’t the first time Sam had found them in a compromising cuddling position in their sleep but it was the first time he was pissed enough at his brother to take pictures.

But, as he fumbled for his cell phone, he was suddenly thrown back down on the bed and covered by a toasty warm archangel blanket.

A blanket that snapped its fingers.

‘Chill Sammy, I got this. DeanlovesCas.com has already had over 87 hits… I think it was the photos, gif sets and videos that did it. One Tumblr reblog and the slash fangirls are all over that shit. Apparently if you blur the focus they look a little like one of those popular ship things… Sterek or Merthur or Johnlock or ,I don’t know, Desti-something… best not to get too deep into that world Sammich, down that path madness lies.’

Gabriel was sprawled atop of him, elbows propped on Sam’s chest as the angel held his head in his hands. Their eyes were locked and it was nowhere near as uncomfortable as Sam would have thought it would be.

Feeling brave, Sam reached up to brush some of Gabriel’s hair behind his ear. His hand may have even stayed there, fingers running through hair that wasn’t quite as soft as fur but just as addictive to touch.

‘How are you you?’

Lack of articulacy aside, the look Gabriel directed at Sam in response to his question could only be described as fond.

‘Good deeds Kiddo! It was basically a “do enough of them and Daddy gives you back your human meat suit” deal.’

Sam really didn’t mean to ruin whatever the moment they seemed to be having was by snorting in suppressed laughter. Really he didn’t.

Even if he was completely out of his depth with said moment and was indeed contemplating either super gluing himself and Gabriel to the bed so they could have it forever or throwing the archangel as far away as humanly possible, running from the room screaming, moving to Honduras, changing his name to Bertram and not returning until his emotions started talking sense.

He was _not_ an on purpose moment ruin-er. He swears.

It was just, really, what kind of good deeds could a kitten do?

Not that he was planning to say that out loud. It seemed a little rude.

Then Gabriel pouted at him and made to get up. Which… no!

‘What kind of good deeds could a kitten do, dude?’

Sam was seriously going to trade in his brain-to-mouth filter for one that wasn’t useless at the first sign of feelings. Or you know, just one that worked in general. Definitely not the same brand as Dean’s.

Thankfully, supposed rudeness aside, the question stopped Gabriel from leaving, so mission accomplished. 

Unfortunately, it did however also result in a look of pure indignation overtaking the archangel’s face and a well-timed flick aimed at Sam’s nose.

‘Ow!’

‘How very dare you? I’ll have you know there are squirrels out there that would be dead right now without my help and…’

‘I think you’ll find it was my expert nursing skills…’

And now Sam had Gabriel’s fingers holding his lips shut. Which was new.

‘You know I adore your brains as much as your looks Cupcake, but now is the time for shush… I was explaining why even as a kitten I’m awesome.’

The effectiveness of Sam’s dubious glare was somewhat lessened by the involuntary duck face Gabriel had created. But, after a few seconds of it. the angel released his mouth before playfully slapping his cheek.

‘Now as I was saying, I saved those squirrels…’

‘But…’

No words were needed. Gabriel’s “Keep talking, say something, I dare you” eyes were enough.

‘… _by_ bringing them to you to look after. Good deed! I made Dean smile by pretending I didn’t know he was the one moving those stupid laces. Good deed! I kept Castiel sane during his punishment, which he asked for himself, the endearing little martyr. Definitely my favorite brother. So again, good deed. Did you have any bad dreams with me snuggled up against your gigantic frame? No? Good deed! And do I even need to mention the trolls?

‘Now hang on a just a second, how the hell did you help with the trolls apart from perching on Dean’s head when we got back to the car and licking away the blood before it ran in his eyes.’

If eye rolling were a sport, Gabriel would be in the pros.

‘OK, firstly, let’s not belittle the good deed that that was. Or the sacrifices I made. It was not a picnic. I had your brother’s blood in my mouth, Sam. In my _mouth_!’

Sam had to admit, that took dedication.

‘And secondly? Do you not remember the morning of that day? Before you got the call from Bobby correcting the identification from a single wendigo to a nest of trolls? When you Knuckleheads were all ready to storm into the cave grossly under prepared? To your dooms?’

The thing was, Sam did remember. He’d just never pieced it together.

‘You knew it was trolls, didn’t you? That’s why you crapped in my boot, and ripped shreds out of Cas and I when we tried to clean it. You were delaying us so we didn’t all die horribly.’

Sam would never admit how good smug looked on Gabriel. But then again, if the result was another arrogant look, it might be worth it.

‘Got it in one, Kiddo! I am amazing!’

On third thought… No, it was still hot.

‘But how did you know Dean would take so long to clean it?’

‘I didn’t. I was all ready to mark up his manly, yet strangely feminine face. The dry heaving and hysterical tears were an unexpected and hilarious coincidence. A delightful bonus, if you will.’

Yeah, Sam could believe that. What he couldn’t believe was that at some point during the conversation the pair of them had moved. They were now lying side by side, on their sides, bodies pressed together and faces inches apart. And Sam’s fingers had found their way back into Gabriel’s hair.

Dean’s emotional constipation would have had him midway through a stroke by now if he were in Sam’s place. As it was, Sam was shaking, tiny tremors running through his whole body.

They only stopped when Gabriel lifted his arm, hand gently cupping Sam’s jaw while his thumb stroked soft passes over the hunter’s cheek. 

Now, technically, this insanely intimate gesture should increase the discomfit of the already overly intimate situation. That would be logical and make perfect sense. 

But apparently logic was on a holiday and sense had pissed off leaving Sam floundering in the magical land of “I don’t know what’s going on”. A land Sam may one day be crowned king of, given the amount of time he spent there.

Screw it! If you can’t beat ‘em… ask for help.

‘Gabe, what the hell’s going on? With this… us… I’m not… huh?’

Smug was not the only look that suited Gabriel. Indulgent was pretty sexy too.

‘It’s up to you Sam, where this goes. I cannot, will not, tell you how to play this. Free will is kind of important to you guys right? So you tell me what _you_ think is going on.’

‘If I knew I wouldn’t have to ask… sorry, no, I’m really good at denial but I know exactly what’s going on here. I just have no idea why. This has come out of nowhere Gabriel. You were a kitten dude, a kitten.’

‘Please do not start that again okay? Yes, I was a kitten, well spotted. But let’s not pretend that this wasn’t a long time coming. Admit it, before I came back with four legs, you totally missed me. Which is, you know, understandable. I’m wonderful.’

‘And modest.’

‘You know it Sweet-cheeks.’

Sam might have actually missed Gabriel a little. It wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility. 

Maybe, and it was a big maybe, he had felt some sort of connection with the guy, something bigger than he could explain. And when that tiny haloed kitten had touched his finger, something tight in his chest, a weight that had been there since the archangel died, loosened just a touch.

But still…

‘I don’t do this Gabriel… I don’t… it’s… I’m not ready… what if I’m never ready? What if there is just something wrong with me. I feel it… what you are offering… what you’re ready to give and it’s huge, way more than I could even begin to process, let alone deserve and I…’

Gabriel moved his thumb from Sam’s cheek to press it against his mouth.

‘Will you _shut up_? This is not a race. We will not run out of time. I will follow you to whatever celestial plane you decide to check out next. Whether permanently or on one of those little visits you and Dean insist on having. Have you been to Valhalla yet? It is a hoot. Once I deal with those leviathans, we’ll go. The point is I don’t want to rush you or force you into something you don’t want. But, just for the record, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you Samuel Winchester. Nothing. So, just take a deep breath and chill. When you work it out, you’ll work it out. I don’t mind waiting. No plans to go anywhere. Besides someone has to hang around and look after my little bro. Protect his virtue on the off chance your brother ever decides to pull his head out of his ass.’

Sam did breathe. Because when Gabriel said he wasn’t leaving, that weight, that tightness in his chest, was gone. Completely. Like maybe Sam’s biggest fear was that when Gabriel got his body back, he’d take off, glad to be rid of them.

He admits _nothing_.

Therefore, instead of expressing things that apparently he didn’t need to just yet, Sam shifted onto his back and pulled Gabriel towards him. One day he would figure out his hands’ obsession with the angel’s hair. Today was not that day as Sam’s fingers were once again tangled in the soft locks as he directed Gabriel’s head to rest on his collarbone.

‘So, we can talk about this tomorrow then?’

Sam could feel Gabriel grinning against his skin.

‘Oh definitely. I might even snap you up some breakfast if you’re lucky.’

‘In bed?’

‘You evil tease!’

‘You love it!’

Gabriel’s vaguely affirmative grunt was drowned out by an unexpected interruption. Dean.

‘Will you two either make-out or shut up? Some of us are trying to sleep!’

Sam not entirely sure his and Gabriel’s continuing semi-hushed giggles were quite what Dean was aiming for. However, considering the next sound they heard from Dean was a snore, they weren’t too concerned.

Eventually they settled down, the warmth from Gabriel’s body and the rhythmic beating of his heart lulling Sam into a drifting doze. This was nice. This was comfortable.

‘How long do you think it will take Cassie tomorrow to work out I’ve snapped his voice back? I’m thinking until Dean annoys him.’

Sam smiled, face pressed to the top of the archangel’s head.

‘Sleep, Gabriel. Time for sleep.’

‘ _Fine_ …but can I still wake up at four to scream in Dean’s face? You know, for old times’ sake?’

Sam’s barking laughter may have gotten Dean’s pillow thrown at them and a confused glare from Castiel but the smug smirk shared just with him made it more than worth it.


End file.
